


Like Meant to Be

by rosemaryblues



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Slow Burn, also rhys is rly pan and fiona is rly demi, btw this is after chapter 5, i cry, i die for rhys and fiona hugging sessions tbh, rhys is rly clingy and fiona has commitment issues, so many contrasts, written bc this has been stuck in my head for like two months now and i just
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-31 00:17:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8555260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosemaryblues/pseuds/rosemaryblues
Summary: "It's just you and me now! Seems fitting, like, meant to be?"Rhys has never been good with love, whilst Fiona has never sought to known it. He is riding on a tail-end of yet another failed relationship, when she comes along and offers him a way out. He never thought it would ever be like this; one moment they're bickering, the next he wants to kiss the breath out of her.[Slow-burn Rhyiona, eventual alcohol-driven confession games, and tons of leftover guilt. Basically 'this shit is what kills me'; the fic edition]





	

**Author's Note:**

> Summary: Rhys is working himself into a hole. He hasn't been eating or sleeping properly since the break-up with Sasha, and he isn't sure he can handle someone like Gortys watching him and all of his habits. That is, until he's somehow swept up into a phone call with the last person he wants to talk to in the entire world: his ex-girlfriend's sister.

|I|

* * *

 

The mindless echo of fingers tapping on a keyboard resonated throughout the room. Over the endless ‘tick-tick-tick’ of the clock mounted on the wall, it was all to be heard. The silence was deafening, and unbeknownst, a little lonely, but it wasn’t something Rhys could place.

He paused mid-type, his amber eye flicking back and forth to quickly scan the information on the screen in front of him. Satisfied that everything was in order, he retracted his head and gave a slow blink before continuing to type.

The stale act continued on for another minute or so, before the sound of whirring wheels arose to join the corporate rhythm. Rhys locked his jaw, feeling irritation rise in his stomach at being, if only slightly, interrupted, and he scooted his chair forward, hunching over and pretending the sound was nonexistent.

He had to give the little robot credit for being as quiet as long as she had though. When Gortys had asked to join him that evening for work, he had made her promise that she wouldn’t make a sound. He really hadn’t picked that she would be able to for the last three hours, since everybody else had gone home and he was the only one left to pick up work. He had been so absorbed in it that he had almost forgotten she was even there, but she was even harder to ignore now that she seemed to be making _scratching_ noises against the carpet.

If Gortys was trying to get his attention, it had worked, and as he turned quickly in his chair he saw her quickly clock her wheel forward, and turn each centre-piece of her body towards him. She gave a rather innocent smile (or what could count as a smile on that face of hers) and waved a hand.

Rhys leaned back in his chair, swapping one leg over the other and cocking an eyebrow. “Gortys? What did I say?”

“Oh, I know what you said very well! Do you want me to repeat it? Because if you do, it was, “If you shut your yap-”

“Okay, okay, I get it. What I don’t get is why you’re suddenly making sound?”

Gortys crossed her arms behind her back, a trait she had no doubt picked up from his meek secretary, and cocked her head to the side in what was a cutesy manner.

“No reason! My joints were just getting achy from sitting for too long!”

He was taken aback. “Can...can that happen? To robots, I mean?”

“To some! I wonder though, can humans get them from sitting for too long? Of course they can! And, you must have those achy joints right now!”

Rhys immediately rolled his shoulders back and sat straight in his chair, becoming more aware of the dull ache in the back of his neck. He lifted a hand instinctively to press, but he saved himself just in time to sweep it through his hair instead.

“What? No, I’m fine, Gortys, really. If you don’t want to stay, the door is over there.”

The irritation had slipped through into his voice, and he cringed at the way her eyes fell. She seemed a little deflated, before clenching her metallic clamps and looking back up at him in determination.

“I’m okay to stay, but I’m not staying quiet!”

Rhys’ mouth twitched, and he rose from his chair, walking over to the door. As he reached for the handle, he was a little too late as Gortys whirred in front of him, using her unusual robot strength to keep it shut.

“Hold on mister! I wanna know something!”

Rhys almost jumped back in surprise. “W-What?”

“Are you like this every night? Working for hours and hours and hours and hours, over into the next day, sometimes forgetting to eat--”

Rhys rubbed at his wrist anxiously at the robot’s sudden forwardness. “I--Sometimes. But Gortys, that’s the way it has to be. I run this company now, I have to keep it up to standard. Also, I ate tonight, thank you.”

“Nu-uh, I don’t agree with that at all.” The robot wheeled away from the door and crossed her arms, turning her head around on it’s stand in an imitation of what Rhys would sometimes do when negotiating with a fellow client. She turned her entire body to face him as well, wheeling forward only a few paces for dramatic effect. “I think you need a holiday, Rhys! Somewhere away from a computer, and what you eat can be bigger than a half-eaten drakefruit.”

“Drakefruit is pretty great, though.”

“I wouldn’t know! But that aside, I really don’t think this is healthy for you anymore.”

Rhys looked back over to his computer, where page 37 of his filing report shone with sentences filled with too many, space-filling irrelevant factoids about property marketing and weapons manufacturing, and over to the wall-clock, where the comical clawed hands of a skag almost covered where it read 2:00am.

Rhys’ eyes widened in surprise, and he was almost tempted to scan the clock just to make sure, but he was distracted by the weight of Gortys tugging on his pants. He looked down at her and let out a sigh, dropping to a crouch and gently petting her head.

“It is getting pretty late…”

“Is all of this because Sasha broke up with you?”

“I-- _what?”_

Gortys’ innocent stare was enough to throw him on just how blunt that remark had been, and he immediately took to standing, letting his hand drift to actually rub at his neck. He looked to the side, feeling his stomach drop at the fact that if _Gortys_ could notice his decline, than surely anybody else could as well.

He thought it was a rather pathetic excuse to have his entire livelihood fall down the drain because of such an issue, but he found that completely dedicating himself to his work was really the only thing that could take his mind off that reality.

Rhys didn’t handle breakups well, especially when they happened to him (and more often than not, they did). Stacey had been his first, and that was on an account of her breaking it off before dropping the bombshell that she had been cheating on him, with _three_ different guys. The next had been Vaughn, but that sort of relationship had been really up and down since their college days, and was a thing they hadn’t brought up since being booted out of Hyperion. Smaller dates here and there never really turned into anything more, and when romance with a certain someone had blurred between the lines of obsession and eventual mind-control, _well…_

Sasha had been a taste of something new, a fresh beginning and a thing to look forward to on living on such a miserable planet. She had been the excitement that came with danger, the consolation of survival with death right around the corner, and something he found himself investing a lot into.

He wasn’t sure what it was though, whether it was his new place as the Atlas CEO, if he was too clingy or too awkward, or if the thrill of adventure had been what had kept that initial spark going in the first place.

After the Vault business had settled down, and the initial scare of Sasha’s brush with death, there didn’t seem any better time for a relationship to be pursued. But three months of puppy love became strained, and before he knew it, Sasha had come right out with it early one morning. For her “I really wasn’t sure how to tell you, Rhys”, her deliverance over a cereal breakfast left little to be questioned.

He was left with his free time now being filled up with even more work, whilst Sasha had gone on a 6 month long heist across Pandora. There was no way for it to be awkward, no chance he could leave annoying text messages (he had forced himself to delete her number from his echo-log for that exact purpose), and no way to properly move on.

Gortys was right; Rhys’ own health was suffering, and his routine was doing little to help his situation, but he really wasn’t too sure on how else to cope.

Rhys let out a sigh, slowly sitting back in his chair. Gortys wheeled forward, reaching upwards and placing a hand sympathetically on his knee. They sat in silence for a few seconds, Gortys’ clasps pinching gently at the fabric around his knee, before Rhys stretched his arms above his head and let out a yawn.

“I...really should get some shut eye. You should too. Er, if robots sleep.”

“We can sleep! I don’t necessarily need to, but the process of dreaming is really fascinating! Scary, but fascinating.”

“That’s...er, okay, anyway-”

“Oh, hold on!”

Gortys’ voice became (not unusually) chipper, and her digital eyes rolled into arches, signalling something like happiness. Or perhaps curiosity. “How do I know you’re not going to do this again?”

“Huh?”

“Stay up and ruin your sleeping schedule! If I’m not here to remind you, I bet you’re going to just do this all over again. I really don’t want to have to do that; watch you work again, I mean. So I’ve got a plan!”

Rhys cocked an eyebrow, feeling a smirk tip in the corners of his lips. “Oh yeah? What’s your plan, then?”

“I’m going to call Fiona!”

“...Wait, _what!?_ ”

Before he could comprehend the situation, a loud ringing sound fell through the room. The air around Gortys’ head buzzed with slight vibrations, and as Rhys jumped to tackle her, she was more than prepared, and he met the floor with a clean thud.

“Don’t! Don’t call Fiona, whatever you do! She’s not-”

“ _Hello? Gortys?_ ”

Fiona’s smooth voice ran clear, and Rhys swore into the carpet. Gortys wheeled around in circles, waving her arms madly. “Hi Fiona! I’m in Rhys’ office!”

“ _Now, what’re you doing there? And way past your bedtime, cutie._ ”

“I know, I know! But hear me out! I decided to keep Rhys company, since it can be really boring being a messenger bot all day long, and he’s been doing work nonstop for hours! He’s hardly getting any sleep, and it’s all his fault that I’m not either!”

“Hold on, I thought robots didn’t sleep?”

_“And there’s the man of the hour. What the hell do you think you’re doing, keeping Gortys up like this?”_

“Ugh, that’s beside the point!” Rhys pushed himself to his feet, brushing himself down. “And what about you? You sound wide awake.”

There was a moment of hesitation on Fiona’s end, and he heard the rustling of sheets. “ _I_ _was reading.”_

“You don’t read--”

“ _What was Gortys saying, about you staying up late to work?”_

Rhys clenched his jaw. Out of all the people in the galaxy, Fiona was the last person he wanted knowing about his routine. _Especially_ if it was linked with her sister.

“I have things to work on. Y’know, business stuff. Or well, you don’t know, Miss Vault Hunter. ...Do you?”

_“Vault hunting **can** involve paperwork. Mostly signing contracts of secrecy and all...but yeah. Point is, you need your beauty sleep if you want to work hard.” _

“I was just about to-”

“I have another solution!” Gortys’ voice rang out, and for a second Rhys almost forgot she was there.

“ _Another solution?”_ The curiosity in Fiona’s voice was almost unmistakeable, and he thought he could almost feel her smirking.

“Yeah! I think Rhys needs to take a big, fun holiday! Away from work and the stresses of life, and the stresses of Sa-”

“Okay, okay, enough of that--”

_“That actually doesn’t sound like a bad idea, Gortys.”_

Rhys’ face was set into a scowl. What was this, Fiona and Gortys getting up in his business? Why was it anybody’s business what he did in his spare time?

“I think Rhys should go on a holiday with you, Fiona!”

And there Gortys went again, saying whatever she wanted.

Only Fiona agreed.

_“You know what, that sounds like a great idea?”_

Rhys was taken aback. Since when did Fiona ever want to go anywhere with him? Let alone on a _holiday with just the two of them_.

“Woah, woah! Ladies, can you cease for like, a second? First of all, I’m not taking a holiday.”

_“Uh, yes you are.”_

“Yeah, you are!”

Rhys furrowed his brow. “Secondly, I’m not taking a holiday with _Fiona_.”

_“Not my cup of tea either, Rhys. Tell whoever you need to that you're going, and pack a bag, I’ll be there in the morning.”_

_“_ What? Hold on, hold on. First of all, this is way too sudden."

He could almost feel Fiona bristling in stubbornness, as she did, and he heard her let out a breath. " _It might be, but I figured with all the extra work you've been packing that you'd be able to take some time off."_

She wasn't wrong about that.

"Even if I were to--Look. You're _not_ coming to my work, you're _not_ picking me up and I'm _not_ taking a holiday with you. No offence, but I really don't care about how much Gortys thinks it's a good idea. Or if you do, for that matter.”

“ _Rhys._ ” The tone in Fiona’s voice softened only slightly, and he recoiled in surprise. He had expected her to shout. “ _It's for your own good."_  She paused, before letting out a sigh. _"I really wouldn't be saying so if I didn't think otherwise. You're acting stupid, locking yourself up like this, and you're shutting yourself off so much that I had to send Gortys in to--"_

“Hold on, you _planned_ for this?”

The other end fell silent, and Gortys let out a quiet “Uh-oh…”. Rhys curled his robotic hand into a fist and glared daggers in Gortys’ direction. He could feel the irritation prior now bubbling over into genuine anger, and his heart twisted with something he couldn't recognize.

"I'll have you know that I'm doing just  _fine."_

 _"_ _Clearly you're not._ "

"I don't need you intervening in my life, Fiona. You're not my mom, and you're not doing me any favors by pretending to care. I don't need to be treated as some sort of...malfunctioning child."

He heard the unmistakable snort in her voice as she no doubt straightened up to retaliate. " _I never said any of that! I don't care what happened between you and Sasha, but when it reaches--"_

“Gortys, hang up.”

“But-“

“ _Rhys, it’s not—“_

“Hang up.”

Gortys uttered a quick goodbye, and the static around her head ceased with a twist of her hand. The room fell into silence once more, save for the incessant ticking noise of the skag clock upon the wall.

“Rhys…?” Gortys’ voice was quiet.

“Don’t. Can you just...go away.”

“I’m sorry! Fiona really doesn't mean to--...”

Rhys fell back into his chair and waved a hand at the door, finding himself too exhausted to even argue against her apology. Gortys simply sighed in that reverberating tone of hers, and he listened as she slowly wheeled over to the door, a moment of silence as she scrabbled for the handle before closing it behind her with a soft click.

He rolled the chair beneath his waist, feeling it shift back and forth against the floor, before he pulled it close to the desk and laid his head upon his arms. The light from the computer glowed dimly against the backs of his eyelids as he closed them.

The ECHO Comm device beside his computer vibrated only once. He ignored it.

 

\---

 

_“I’ll see you tomorrow.”_

The message was easy to send off, but did absolutely nothing for the edge of guilt pilfering about in her stomach. As if to ease the sensation, Fiona laid the cool surface of the ECHO Comm against her bare stomach, falling back onto her pillows with a sigh. She lifted a hand and brushed her fringe from her eyes, raising an eyebrow at the action because, what was there to look at, really, from the beige tinted ceiling of the caravan, a sight she wished could have at least been accompanied by a sunroof.

But with a sunroof came lesser protection, so a sentimental view of the stars had to be sacrificed for the everyday cruelty that Pandora presented. That was putting it lightly, and even with the curtains shut, the fact that the evening heat had forced her down to a singlet and shorts made her feel a little more than exposed.

She curled on her side, hugging the ECHO Comm close to her, and feeling irked by the fact that Rhys probably had a state-of-the-art cooling system throughout that stupid Atlas base of his.

“At least he’s rotting in comfort.” She muttered, looping her fingers through the handles of the device. For what it was worth, Rhys had every right to be pissed off, but his inability to open up about what troubled him is usually what got him into all sorts of trouble, and in turn, that pissed _her_ off. How was she supposed to watch his back when she didn’t even know what was going on?

Fiona couldn’t say she had worked a business job a day in her life, but what could it hurt for Rhys to take just a few days to a week off, right? He was the CEO, so that definitely would have its fair share of perks, including the right to take holidays on short notice. Yeah, most definitely.

With Sasha away on her adventure, that left only Vaughn to drag Rhys’ ass out of the fire. But the two had been seeing each other less and less lately, what with Rhys’ work habits and Vaughn’s duties to the Children of Helios, and even with the beard and the Psycho mask he was still as awkward as ever, so it’s not like he was likely to propose any sort of getaway either.

Fiona almost regretted saying no when Sasha had invited her along on her own getaway, but with Vault Hunting being as free-roaming as it was, and the large pile of money she was rolling in, she could go wherever she wanted. There certainly wasn't anything thrilling about having to go away on a trip with Rhys, but without any push, he wasn't going anywhere. A man without motivation was so unlike Rhys, and whether or not she wanted to admit it, that scared her.

Sure there was no ‘duty’ she needed to uphold, no promises to always drag him along when something went wrong, and certainly no obligations to clean up after that mess of a breakup. But when it came to family, she would do anything she could for them. And whether he liked it or not, Rhys was family.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! This is going to be my middle project in between writing Outset and Fabricated World, because I just couldn't leave this idea alone tbh.


End file.
